


A Geometric Proof

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Category: South Park
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Intoxication, Kissing, M/M, Polyamory, Sex, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan and Kenny always ask Kyle to come with them when they hit the red light district on the weekends, and he always declines. Tonight, though, they're staying in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lemma

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same ficverse as [Multiplication by One](http://archiveofourown.org/works/243706), but completely unrelated to that story.

The ceiling could be anywhere, but Stan knows it's in Amsterdam. He knows this because _he_ is in Amsterdam, and he is looking at the ceiling. _Ipso facto_ , this ceiling is in Amsterdam. It's, like, a geometric proof. A philosophical meditation. On top of which, Stan is pretty sure he used Latin correctly there. If Kyle were here, he'd be so proud.

Kyle isn't here, though. Well, he's here in Amsterdam—that was the promise the three of them made to each other graduation night: to spend junior year abroad together. A promise made and kept. Kenny worked his fucking ass off to get here and Kyle had been so proud, he couldn't stop hugging Kenny for the whole first week. Stan had been proud, too. He'd just shown it differently, taking Kenny for a celebratory girl in the red light district that first night.

So yeah, Kyle is here, he's just not _here_ under this ceiling at this moment. They'd invited him to go with them to De Wallen tonight, but as usual he declined: "It doesn't seem right to treat women like that."

"Just because you're fucking a girl, dude, that doesn't mean you're treating her badly," Kenny had pointed out reasonably. Kyle had apologized, but he still didn't accept the invitation.

So it's just Kenny and Stan. The plan was to do a little drinking in Kenny's room before hitting the red light district, where the booze and all is going to cost as much as the girls. It seemed like a great idea when they thought of it, but now that their blood is infused with thick pleasance from the cheapest beer they could stomach, De Wallen seems miles and miles away. Which it is. It's not like they couldn't walk those miles drunk, it's not like they haven't done it before, coming back the other way… but they're kind of settled in now. The floor is clean and comfortable to lie on if you want to, which Stan does, and the beer is plentiful and priced right. There's only one problem with the new plan of staying in:

"No girls here," Stan observes to the ceiling.

"That's not a problem," Kenny says from somewhere off to his left. And then Kenny is right there, or at least his hand is.

"Well," Stan says, watching the hand disappear inside his pants, "it's not a problem yet, because I'm not hard."

Kenny's face looms into view. "Not a problem, man," he grins, lowering himself to his belly, and Stan wonders when he spread his own legs. Kenny is still grinning as he cradles Stan's flaccid cock in his warm palm, and then his grin swallows Stan.

Kenny's mouth is as warm as his hand, and a whole lot slicker. His tongue strokes warm and slick and steady along the underside, playing nice, so fucking nice, with Stan's cock. As Kenny coaxes the blood flow down to Stan's cockhead, Stan pillows his other head, spinning slow and light, on clasped hands and lets the darkness behind closed eyelids envelop him. Kenny's mouth is as sweet as any red light girl Stan has been with, but when Stan opens his mouth to tell Kenny so, only a moan comes out. Kenny answers by tugging Stan's balls, and Stan gives him another moan and a buck of his hips.

When the beautiful, slick heat comes off him, Stan opens his eyes and slants himself up on one arm. "I could suck your balls for a while, if you want," Kenny grins at him.

It's a sweet offer from a sweet mouth, and Cartman would be jealous (or maybe he'd only be jealous if it were Kyle's mouth), but Stan wants that mouth, Kenny's sweet one, back where it was. He puts more weight on his elbow as he reaches for Kenny with his other hand and pushes him back down: "Cock," Stan says, and practically purrs into the moan this time when Kenny complies. Stan's fingers stay in Kenny's hair, echoing Kenny's fingers on his balls, or maybe they're mirroring each other; Kyle would know the right turn of phrase.

Kenny's mouth is going at its own rhythm, creating a swell, the pleasure thickening and quickening in Stan, his breathing going quick and shallow and hard, his cock hard in Kenny's mouth now, Kenny warm and slick and clever-quick-tricking around him, and _fuck_ but Kenny's mouth is just as sweet and pretty and sweeter still than any mouth Stan has ever had the pleasure of being inside, and in the moment right before he comes, Stan kind of forgets Kenny isn't a prostitute and totally forgets to warn him.

He remembers in the moment right after, and props himself up, reversing the tug of his tightened fingers in Kenny's hair. Kenny opens his eyes and lifts his gaze to meet Stan's, comes off Stan just enough to smile around his cock, and a trail of unswallowed come spills out of the corner of the smile, slipslides down Kenny's chin.

"Fuck," Stan says. Exhales deep; inhales, and tries again: "Fuck," he says, as Kenny licks one more time, and then comes off him all the way, once more cradling Stan in his hand. Stan breathes out hard again, breathes in slow, and says, "Didn't mean to treat you like a whore, dude."

"Do you kiss whores?"

"Well," Stan says, not sure if this counts as the same thing and trying to remember if it's ever happened anyhow, "they don't kiss me."

Kenny smiles again, and then his mouth, smiling and full of clinging traces of unswallowed come, is on Stan's mouth, his tongue inside Stan's mouth, licking Stan's come back into him, Stan licking himself up off Kenny and swallowing himself down; Stan follows when Kenny goes back into his own mouth, hand wrapped around the back of Kenny's head to hold him for Stan's tongue. Kenny is grinding against the crease that joins Stan's thigh to his hip, and it's definite that no prostitute, no girl anywhere, has ever done this with him.

Kenny doesn't come against him, though. When the kiss breaks and Kenny leans up away from him, Stan realizes that the pounding he thought was his heart is actually a knocking at the door. Stan thinks maybe they should just leave it, but then Kyle's voice is saying, "Is anyone here?" and Kenny is just going ahead and opening the door, and Stan is still lying there, his cock all naked and sated soft.

Kyle doesn't say anything right away. Kenny just stands there, grinning away. All the blood Stan's cock had borrowed has flooded back to his face; he can only imagine what he looks like.

But Kyle isn't looking at him anymore, because Kenny has put his grin on Kyle's mouth now. A low moan slips out around the edges of the kiss, and Stan realizes it came from Kyle, realizes that Kyle is not pushing Kenny away but moving into the kiss more; Stan wonders if Kyle can taste him on Kenny's tongue, and he feels a soft moan vibrate in his own throat.

When Kenny and Kyle part, Stan tells Kyle he didn't have to drink alone just to come out with them.

Kyle just smiles as he sinks to his knees. "I don't need to be drunk to suck a guy's cock."

Stan sits up, weight on his hands behind him as he watches. Kyle looks as pretty as any whore Stan's ever seen kneeling, his head moves just as pretty, and Stan bets his mouth is just as sweet, yeah, just as sweet as Kenny's too. Kenny warns Kyle the way that Stan failed to warn Kenny, but Kyle swallows, anyhow.

Not all of it, though; there are still smudges of Kenny's come on his tongue when Kyle slips it into Stan's mouth, sweetly, oh hell yeah, so fucking sweet.


	2. Axiomatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

When the flirtations of the morning sunlight can't be ignored any longer, Stan cracks open one eye and then the other, blinks at Kenny's room. He's still on the floor, but there's a pillow under his head, a blanket over his body, a warmth at his back. He wonders if they know he's awake yet. Wonders if he could play it off like he doesn't remember last night, like he thinks anything he does remember was just a dream. He could, probably. He could laugh it off and they'd let him. They'd let him, and when he wasn't around they'd kiss each other the way they did last night, no hesitation, familiar, comfortable, not even having to be drunk.

Fuck, Stan thinks. He wonders how long he's known about them, and why he never told himself before. The desire to see them, right now if not sooner, overwhelms him and he rolls onto his other side, towards the warmth.

Kenny is lying on his back. He turns his head and smiles at Stan. "Hey, 'morning, dude," he murmurs. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I." Stan isn't looking at Kenny as he tries to answer. He's looking on the other side of Kenny, at the floor where Kyle should be. There's no way it could have been a dream. Kyle was here last night, he kissed Stan; Stan's mouth can still feel him. He licks his lower lip. "What—"

He breaks off when Kenny hushes him, tells him it's okay, nods his head sideways, down. Stan looks down at the blankets bunched up between Kenny's legs, and then the blankets move, and Stan gets it.

It's suddenly way too warm under the blanket, way too warm in the room, and Stan thinks maybe he should leave to find cooler air, the kind that isn't so hard to breathe.

But if it's too warm for him, it must be too warm for Kyle, too. Stan pushes the blanket away, so Kyle can breathe.

"Kyle..." Stan is years past puberty, but his voice breaks on Kyle's name, the way it sometimes used to even before he hit puberty.

Their eyes meet as Kyle angles towards Stan without taking his mouth off Kenny. He gathers himself to move back and Kenny's fingers slide out of his hair to let him. But Stan doesn't want to be unfair to Kenny, so he puts his own fingers where Kenny's were, buried deep in Kyle's curls. Kyle's lashes flutter madly and Stan wants to kiss them. He waits for Kyle to succumb, to close his eyes and resume sucking Kenny's cock, and then he lies down beside Kyle. He kisses the tips of his middle and forefinger together, transfers the kiss to Kyle's eyelids through touch. Kyle whimpers around Kenny's cock.

"Jesusfuck, Marsh," Kenny breathes. "Whatever you just did to him, do it again."

So Stan kiss-touches Kyle all over his face, making Kyle's whimpers bleed into each other, becoming a steady purr on Kenny's cock, and when Stan accidentally brushes one of the kiss-touches from Kyle's lips onto Kenny, Kenny comes in Kyle's mouth and over Stan's kiss.

Kyle turns onto his side when Kenny shifts, opening his gaze onto Stan's again. This time when Stan says Kyle's name, nothing breaks. "Kyle~" he tries again, whispering whole.

The new shifting catches both of them: Stan props up and Kyle rolls towards Kenny, who is getting to his feet. "Kenny—" Stan's voice doesn't break, but it strains.

Kenny just smiles. "I'm not going anywhere." He stretches languidly, wraps a towel around his waist, steps out into the hall.

Kyle has rolled back to him by the time Stan looks down from the door. His eyes are closed, and Stan does with his mouth what he wanted to: he kisses Kyle's eyelids. Licks his eyelashes. He thinks Kyle will laugh, and if he does then Stan will, too, and swallow hard, pretending his heart wasn't in his throat when he dared such a thing. But Kyle doesn't laugh. He flutters. And Stan flutters, too.

And that's how Kenny finds them when he comes back: Stan and Kyle, wrapped up in flutterings. And in the next moment, wrapped up in Kenny, too, as he rejoins them, tangling his limbs with theirs in the indulgent Amsterdam sunshine.


End file.
